Winter Roses
by BloodFromTheThorn
Summary: Five girls are dead, bodies unharmed but for their broken necks and adorned with roses. How can the team hope to catch a killer who's been dead for 20 years? Focuses on Magnus, cause he's awesome.
1. Chapter 1

_I've come to the conclusion that Tom Hiddleston could play absolutely _anyone _and I would still love that character to bits. Hence, my new obsession with BBC's Wallander (and the Hollow Crown but I refuse point blank to try and write a Shakespearian fic. Not happening). But not series 3 because Magnus Martinsson is inexplicably absent – this upsets me. So I decided to write a fic about him to make up for the depressing lack of Hiddleston's face. _

_This is my first time in this fandom, it might take me a while to adjust, sorry about that. Set some time in series two I guess. Also, if someone could tell me what rank Magnus is, I'd be greatly appreciative – for now I'm just calling him detective._

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

Magnus sighed heavily to himself, running his long fingers through his curls and down over his face, trying to rub away the fatigue that was overwhelming him. The whole team was suffering – he didn't think that a single one of them had seen a proper bed for at least two days and the stress was starting to wear on them.

In the last week and a half, four girls had been murdered, seemingly at random, their only connection their looks. They had all been mid twenties with short, dark hair and blue eyes and each one had been slender and tall; their heights varied a bit but seemed to linger at around five foot seven. The press were calling the killer 'the man of roses,' due to the flowers that had adorned each corpse like some morbid party decoration; it freaked Magnus out.

For the police's point of view, it was a complete disaster; not a single scrap of evidence to be found at the scene except for one impossible detail: the fingerprints of a man who had been dead for twenty years. And it couldn't even be a case of mistaken identity – they had had the body exhumed and Nyberg had examined the remains only to conclude that it was definitely the body of one Kristopher Munstat,* an ex soldier who had died in 1988 in a car accident.

The young detective sighed again and forced his aching body to his feet, trudging determinedly towards the small kitchenette to retrieve yet another cup of vile coffee to keep himself awake. He'd spent the last five hours scouring records from hundreds of different crime organisations trying to find any instances that matched their killers MO – he'd just finished going through the data sent over from Halmstad about a case in 1999 where a girl had been thrown over a cliff. Her description matched up with their victims but the method was completely different and he wasn't convinced that it was related. Still he'd sent the information around to the team by email, mainly just to piss Kurt off – the man was a complete technophobe.

He lingered in the kitchen for as long as he could, loathe to have to return to his cramped desk and fold himself into the too small space. God he needed a holiday. He had some paid leave days that he hadn't yet taken and he made a spur of the moment decision to request them for when this case was over. Slightly bolstered by his decision he made his way over to his desk, offering a smile at Anne-Britt who nodded at him.

"You look like hell," she told him as he passed.

"Thanks," he said back sarcastically but he chuckled to show that he wasn't offended.

"You should go home, get some rest."

"I could say the same to you. When did you last see the light of day?" She hesitated but didn't answer him, having the grace to look contrite. "I thought so," he muttered, victorious. She stuck her tongue out at him.

He liked Anne-Britt, she was like the little sister he didn't have.** They had a strange relationship, more playful than anything; he supposed it was a method of dealing with the immense stress and seriousness of their job. It was probably why Wallander didn't seem to approve.

"You found anything interesting?" He asked after a moment of companionable silence. She grimaced.

"I've been trying to see if there was any connection between the girls. We're fairly certain that they were chosen by the way they looked but I was thinking that maybe there was a link – a cafe that they all frequented or something."

"You're looking for the killer's hunting ground," Magnus accused. She nodded at him slowly then sighed heavily.

"There's nothing though; I can't find anything that's useful. Have you had any luck?" He shook his head glancing back at his computer screen.

"I don't think I'm looking in the right place," he admitted, glancing at Kurt's office door to make sure that he wasn't within earshot. He really did not want to be chewed out by his boss for speaking his mind. Again. Anne-Britt offered an understanding smile, well away of the tension between the Inspector and the younger man – she chalked it up to father like concern on Wallander's part and Magnus being far too proud to accept it. The young woman was about to make a comment on it when the Inspector in question suddenly appeared in the doorway, pulling on his coat as he went.

"Magnus, whatever work you're avoiding doing right now can wait," the young man scowled at the implication but was unable to defend himself as his boss kept talking. "You're with me. Another body's been found."

* * *

Martinsson looked around the bleak landscape tiredly, not really taking in the surroundings. Before him lay the body of another girl: Caroline Vers. It would take a while to get official identification as it had already been determined that her recorded Next of Kin – her mother – had passed away about a year ago.

"It's your serial killer alright," came the sombre voice of Nyberg who was pulling off his latex gloves, having finished his preliminary examination. "Same as the others."

"Snapped neck?" Kurt asked quietly, watching as the ME's assistants moved the corpse gently into a body bag for transportation.

"Looks like it. I'll get the results of the autopsy to you as soon as possible but I don't think that there'll be anything new. It all looks the same; no marks on her except for the bruising around her neck with roses in her hand." Wallander nodded at him with a grim smile.

"Ok, thanks." The ME nodded back and wandered off, instructing his assistants as they cleared the scene. The Inspector just remained standing there, looking around bleakly as though a clue would spontaneously appear before him.

"So, now what do we do?" Magnus asked after a moment, earning him a glare from his boss. He blinked innocently back at him until Wallander just huffed and marched away back over to the car. Muttering to himself about overreactions, the young detective followed, groaning a little as he slipped back into the small interior of the Volvo.

"You hungry?" Well, that was unexpected. Magnus just stared at Kurt as though he had gone insane with wide, surprised eyes even while his mind thought it through, trying to find a trap in the question.

"Err, sort of?" He said eventually, somehow turning the statement into a question. Wallander nodded to himself, starting up the car and driving on without further comment.

'_Be like that then,' _Magnus thought to himself, pulling his ever present laptop onto his lap and beginning to type away at a report he was meant to have finished three weeks ago.

* * *

They pulled up at a small diner on the outskirts of Ystad and Wallander was out of the car without a word, leaving Magnus to stumble after him, confusion marking his brow.

"Why are we here exactly? I thought we were going to Vers' house," he asked when he caught up to his boss.

"And I thought you said you were hungry?" Was Wallander actually grinning? Magnus suddenly wished he had a camera to catch the image of this once in a lifetime moment. "Come on. We'll go to the house after we've eaten. You look like the wind is about to blow you away any minute." The younger detective wasn't sure whether that statement should offend him so he just shrugged noncommittally.

They sat at a table far away from the chill blowing in from the door – they might only be in Southern Sweden but in late November the cold was biting. Coffee was delivered to them with remarkable speed and their orders taken by a waitress who spent a good minute staring at Magnus with her mouth hanging open a little and then another five minutes batting her eyelashes in his direction. The detective did his best to ignore her.

"I think you might have a fan," Wallander pointed out, looking far too smug; Magnus glared at him. "What? Is there someone else I should know about?"

"I've barely left the office in the last fortnight. You really think that I have someone waiting at home?" Magnus saw the way Kurt's eyes tightened and instantly berated himself for the stupid comment; Wallander knew better than most the toll their job could take on relationships. In the office it was a taboo subject – he should have known better.

"You might have a point," he replied eventually, shaking himself out of his meandering thoughts.

"So," Magnus said, desperately wanting a new subject. It was only once he spoke however that he realised he had no idea what the rest of his sentence was meant to be. "Err, any thoughts on the case?" It was the first thought that popped into his head – he refused to consider what that said about his mental state. Kurt shrugged.

"I think that we're missing something. We don't need that stuck up profiler Ekholm to tell us that the appearance of the victims is somehow vital. In cases like this I've seen in the past the killer has targeted a specific group of people for a reason – revenge or anger perhaps." Kurt scrubbed at his face. "There was a similar instance a few years back in Stockholm."

"I read about that, when I was researching," Magnus interjected. "A woman was killing men who reminded her of her abusive husband."

"Exactly. But the trigger for something like this could be anything. We have no idea what to look for." He looked so helpless for a moment that Magnus' heart bled for him.

"We'll get whoever's doing this Kurt," he assured him. The Inspector just smiled grimly at him as the food was deposited in front of them and talking ceased while they ate. The food was nothing special but neither of them cared; Magnus was just glad that it wasn't the sandwiches from the canteen in the office – they were the worst.

They were back on the road again within half an hour. The younger detective was annoyed – turns out that Kurt had conveniently 'forgotten' his wallet, leaving Magnus to foot the bill; it might not have cost all that much but it was the principle. Besides, he had seen Wallander slip the offending item into his coat before they had entered the diner.

"Have you got the address?" Kurt's question snapped him out of his musing with a jolt. He fumbled for the slip of paper he had scribbled it down on during a call to Anne-Britt, eventually producing it from one of the pockets of his trench coat. He read it out to the Inspector who was driving, then lapsed back into pointed silence; he could swear that he saw Kurt grinning out of the corner of his eye, smug bastard.

* * *

When they arrived at the house, Magnus whistled appreciatively.

"Someone was doing well for themselves," he commented, looking up at the massive building before them.

"Until someone snapped her neck and dumped her body in the middle of nowhere," Kurt snapped back, once again annoyed at the detective's flippant attitude. Magnus shrugged but dropped the attitude.

The house was in the middle of nowhere, only accessed by a private road. From what the detective could see, the building was in the middle of a huge plot of land, complete with a small lake and a wooded copse. For firewood perhaps? Either way this place must be worth more money than Magnus could imagine.

"Anne-Britt said that she lived alone. There shouldn't be anyone else here." It was at that moment that he saw the way his boss was staring at the front door of the house. He followed his gaze and his hand leapt to his gun – the lock had been forced and the door swayed in the icy breeze. "Then again..." he muttered, mainly to himself.

"You take the back," Kurt ordered, his gun in his hand as he made his way towards the house. Magnus complied without question, carefully moving around the side of the house, ducking past the windows as carefully as he could.

The back door wasn't locked and he nudged it open carefully without lowering his gun. With practised ease the two policemen swept through the house without a hitch, not leaving a single room unchecked; the whole place was empty. They joined each other in what appeared to be the sitting room and Kurt instantly began to look around. Magnus wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for but he knew better than to comment.

The silence of the room was broken by the quiet noise of a distant splashing. The younger detective darted to a window and looked out at the lake, noticing for the first time the wooden jetty that suck out into the water. There was no one there but Magnus was on edge.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure. I'll be back in a moment," he said, before walking outside without further explanation. Kurt just let him go.

Magnus pulled up the collar of his trench coat against the breeze, shivering slightly in the freezing air. He might spend that holiday of his somewhere warm – Spain maybe. When he reached the jetty, he was immediately alert as he took in the muddy footprints that ran to the end of the landing and back. He poked at one of them, feeling the wet dirt come away on his fingers – these were fresh. He gripped his gun tightly in his hand as he slowly wandered forwards, eyes on the water trying to see if anything had been dumped.

The tense silence was shattered without warning or fanfare. His mind vaguely registered the heavy footsteps behind him, almost drowned out by Kurt's voice shouting his name, sounding almost scared. He didn't have time to think about it though as he span around, bringing his gun up on instinct just as a heavy weight crashed into his side.

He slammed into the unforgiving wooden planks, his head cracking against them with a sickening _snap_ and then lights were dancing in front of his eyes. Who ever had attacked him landed on his chest, a shoulder digging harshly into his ribs for just a moment before the momentum of the attack carried him over, rolling away. There was a split second for there to be relief before Magnus' addled brain realised that hands were gripping him tightly and as such was being dragged to the side with his attacker _towards the edge of the jetty._

'_Oh hell,' _was his only thought before he was dragged over the edge, and into the freezing depths of the lake.

* * *

_*I don't know any Swedish names. All names not taken directly from the show are just random strings of syllables that sound Swedish to me; they will almost certainly not be accurate representations. Apologies. _

_**I haven't read the books so I have no idea what family he may or may not have. _

_This chapter was really odd. I don't like it much, but I had to set up the premise for the story. Anyways, there will be more action later and hopefully I'll have a better read on the characters and so they'll be less out of character._

_This is un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine, sorry for the appalling grammar. Please point out any mistakes :)_

_No idea what my update time on this will be. It really depends. _

_I'll shut up now. _


	2. Chapter 2

The freezing water poured into Magnus' open mouth and down his throat. He choked violently, his whole body trembling as instinctive fear clawed its way into his mind. He thrashed blindly as his lungs screamed at him and his elbow slammed into something – someone – solid; with the distant realisation of someone panicking he recognised that there were arms wrapped around his chest tightly but he kicked out mindlessly, wriggling to get away in a desperate need for air.

His thoughts were muddled, half from blind fear and half from the concussion his attacker had given him, so he wasn't thinking clearly when he threw his head back as hard as he could into the assailant's face. Pain exploded through the back of his skull and his minimal vision blanked out entirely for a moment as his brain struggled to get into gear again. The arms holding him had released on instinct and without even thinking about it, Magnus kicked himself upwards, desperate for air.

When his head broke the surface of the lake he instantly took a massive gulp of oxygen just coughing overtook him. Water streamed from his mouth as he choked it up, expelling it painfully from his lungs as he struggled to breathe. All he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears and so when strong hands grabbed his arms he reacted on instinct and lashed out, his fist glancing off something harmlessly as he floundered in the water. It took a second for him to register Kurt's voice cussing at him and then the hands wrapped around him again.

Before he could really make sense of anything he felt himself being pulled from the lake and with the desperation of a drowning man he grabbed at the solid planks of the jetty beneath him, hauling himself out of the freezing water. He was still coughing and he through watering eyes he could make out the image of his boss at his side, saying something he couldn't hear.

"Urghh..." He groaned incoherently for a few seconds, blinking wildly as the world gradually focused.

"Magnus! Magnus, are you alright?" Kurt actually sounded worried about the young detective who just nodded slowly in response. The gun in the elder man's hand eventually reminded him that his attacker was still in the water and was a potential threat; the thought made his heart hammer and he automatically reached for his own gun only to find it missing – probably in the lake somewhere.

"What did you do to her?!" The voice that was screeching all of a sudden wasn't one that the detective recognised and he twisted himself around to look in the direction of the noise. With still blurred vision he could just make out the shape of a man, at least six foot four and heavily built and holding a distorted shape that looked horrifyingly like a gun.

"Drop it!" Kurt shouted back his hands releasing Magnus to raise his own weapon.

"What did you do to her?" The voice repeated but there was less anger in it this time, instead filled with a strange combination of grief and resignation. Magnus' vision finally focussed again and he was able to clearly see his assailant clearly for the first time.

He was middle aged, probably no older than 35, with thick muscles and a nose that looked like it had spent more time broken than not. A fighter then. His dark eyes were wild and he was waving his gun around like a man possessed.

"Caroline Vers?" Kurt asked, his voice soft – intended to calm. It didn't work, if anything the other man looked even more enraged.

"Did you kill her? Is she dead you son of a bitch?" Magnus' head was pounding with the concussion and he was seriously struggling to keep up with the conversation but he was starting to make sense of it all.

"Put the gun down," Kurt ordered calmly. His own gun was still trained on the man and his hand was steady. "I'm Inspector Wallander of Ystad Police and this is Detective Martinsson of the same." There was a moment where everyone was still but eventually the stranger obliged, throwing his weapon away from himself towards the shore.

"Where's Caroline?" He asked, looking no less dangerous than he had a moment ago. He looked like a man on the very edge of his sanity and that made him a very real threat.

"Are you alright?" The quiet voice beside him was a surprise and he jumped lightly. Kurt was watching him worriedly. Without wishing to try and talk past the scratching in his throat he nodded mutely, deciding to ignore the shivering racking through his thin frame. "Get in touch with Anne-Britt and get some uniforms here. Can you do that?" Magnus didn't answer that, just glared, somewhat offended by his bosses lack of faith. A little dip in a freezing lake didn't render him incompetent.

The next few minutes were a little bit of a blur. Magnus was able to choke out an explanation to a concerned Anne-Britt even though it felt like his throat was on fire and his teeth were chattering so badly that even simple words were a challenge. But after a minute she got the message and informed him that she would be there soon with a unit of police. Meanwhile Kurt slapped handcuffs on his attacker and led him into the building, forcing him down into a chair.

"Care to explain that whole fiasco?" Kurt asked him, trying to hide his anger but failing miserably. Magnus would have laughed if he wasn't sure that such an action would reduce him to frantic coughing.

"I didn't know you were cops, alright?" The man still sounded like he was about to explode but he was making the effort to be civil.

"Policemen or not, that was still assault. You could be charged." A very vindictive part of Magnus hoped that he would be; that water had been damn cold.

"You were trespassing."

"Doesn't make it legal."

"What happened to the right to defend your property?"

"Do you own this land?" The man's silence confirmed what they already knew. "Alright, let's try something else. What's your name?"

"Toreg. Max Toreg." Magnus quickly texted the name to Anne-Britt with the instruction to run it through their systems.

"How do you know Caroline Vers?" The man flinched but didn't lose his calm.

"We are... Close. Together."

"When did you last see her?" It would seem that Toreg had reached the end of his fragile patience at last and his muscles bunched.

"What happened to her? Is she dead?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I'm not a fool. I watch the news, I know about the killer that's out there. Caroline fit the description. I told her to be careful but she just shrugged and laughed it off..." His voice trailed off and he rubbed angrily at his face; with a start, Magnus realized Toreg was crying. The detective himself was still trembling, his vision fuzzy and his brain working far slower than normal even though his attacker seemed completely unaffected by the fact he was dripping icy water onto the carpet. That said, he seemed so wired that he probably couldn't even remember the impromptu swimming session. Despite Magnus's distraction, there was something he still needed to ask.

"What did you throw in the lake?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake as much as he was. At that, Toreg hesitated, looking fearful for the first time. Kurt picked up on the change too.

"We'll have divers going in there anyway. Whatever it is we'll find it, there's no point trying to hide it." The room was silent for at least a minute and the Toreg sighed heavily.

"When she didn't come home, I realized something must be wrong... Look, Caroline was a wonderful person. The nicest girl you could ever meet but she'd made some bad choices. Years ago, lapses in judgement. It wasn't her fault!" He was losing it again, hands going to his hair and tugging helplessly.

"What wasn't her fault Mr Toreg?"

"For a long while now, Caroline has been fighting to kick an addiction."

"She was into drugs?"

"Heroin, amongst others." Toreg wasn't meeting their eyes, staring at the carpet looking thoroughly miserable. "I didn't want anyone to know about it. As soon as people heard I knew they would judge her for it and she didn't deserve that. I dumped her stash in the lake somewhere no one would find it."

Kurt looked at Magnus for a moment, who did his best to look calm and collected but just succeeded in looking like a drowned rat. After a minute the Inspector sighed and massaged his temples.

"We'll take down your details when the others arrive and after that you're free to go - for now. Don't take any sudden holidays Mr Toreg." With that he stood up and released the handcuffs while Magnus did his best not to glare at his boss; the bastard had given him a concussion and hypothermia and Wallander was letting him _go_? He should be charged with assault on a police officer at the very least.

Despite his ire however, once backup arrived Toreg was sent on his way without further comment. Magnus stood next to Kurt's car fuming silently while the Inspector finished up with the uniforms, giving them instructions to fish around in the lake to check the drug story and sweep the house for fingerprints. By the time Wallander joined him, Magnus was trembling violently, unable to feel his fingers while his head throbbed unpleasantly. He would give anything to curl into a ball in his bed and go to sleep for the next few days.

"You look terrible you know," Kurt informed him, not sounding particularly sorry about that fact.

"I wasn't exactly prepared to go swimming today," he shot back, annoyed.

"You alright?"

"Oh, just perfect, thanks for asking." He knew he should really keep his temper in check but he was cold damn it.

"Get in. It's warmer in the car and your lips are turning blue." Magnus didn't want to argue and potentially lose the opportunity to get near a heater so he slipped in without further comment. "How's the head?" Kurt asked once he'd climbed in too, turning up the heating as high as it would go. When Magnus frowned, the Inspector expanded: "I saw you hit your head you know. I'm not completely blind."

"I'll be fine I'm sure," he told him, unwilling to admit just how badly his head was throbbing.

"Like hell you will be. You have a concussion."

"I've had concussions before and I didn't die. Can we please just go?" He just wanted to be away from that house. Wallander hesitated but then just sighed and put the car into gear, pulling away smoothly and heading back the way they had come.

**..**

By the time they arrived back in Ystad, Magnus was struggling to stay awake. It was getting dark; he was finally beginning to feel his fingers again and everything had that fluffy feeling that you get when you're half asleep.

It wasn't until Wallander pulled up outside his flat that he made the effort to pay attention.

"Why're we here?" He slurred, blinking rapidly in an attempt to focus.

"You said it yourself, you haven't been home in days and you desperately need to sleep. You're half way there already," he observed, pulling himself out of the volvo and moving around to the other side to help the somewhat unsteady detective.

"I'm fine. We have work to be doing."

"I don't care. Anything you do at the moment will more than likely be incomprehensible and you'll just have to redo it later. Sleep for now." Kurt had suddenly produced keys from somewhere - probably the detective's pocket, he was too drowsy to notice - and before Magnus could really work out what was happening he was back in his own flat and being pushed towards his room. Too tired to argue, he staggered towards his bed, longing for the warmth and comfort.

Before he'd managed to get through the door of his room though, he looked back to see Kurt settling himself on the sofa in the tiny living room and he frowned at the older man, who shrugged at him.

"What? You have concussion remember? You can't sleep for too long."

"I can set an alarm," he argued but it came out more like a garbled sigh.

"But you won't. Go to sleep Magnus," he told him softly, his voice gentler than he could ever remember it being. And so, oddly comforted by the Inspectors presence, he did just that.

**..**

_Thanks for the reviews :) Sorry I didn't reply, my PM system had a bit of a hissy fit :/_

_I don't know anything about Swedish law. I made everything up._

_This took__ far__ longer than it should have done. Sorry. I had some turning 18 to do. Also, this story is only going to be a few chapters but I've got another Wallander fic idea in the works so there will be another story. Probably not a sequel though. _

_For the record, I stole the name Toreg from Skyrim._


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